Trinity
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day six hundred and sixteen:  Q, S, B  When you need a job to go just right, there's only one team to call in, and that is the Trinity.


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 29th cycle. Now cycle 30!_

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><p><strong>Hear that little bird twitter!<strong> _Been thinking about doing this for a couple days, then this morning decided to just go for it. If you go there, find 'gleekathon' and there I'll be. There's also a video explaining everything... Yep... ;) Check it out!_

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><p><strong>"Trinity"<br>[Older] Quinn, Santana, Brittany, B/S  
>Trinity #1<strong>

In the morning, the papers would be blanketed with the story. Everyone would try to put a spin on what had happened, using what little information was available. Not a single clue left behind but the missing items and the knocked out guards could have revealed that there had even been a break-in. But all it would take would be a detective with a keen eye to connect the precision of the act to one crew, unidentifiable in and of itself. No one knew how many of them there were, male or female, young or old, but everyone had their personal theory.

There were three, and these girls were far from the place where they had met, where they had grown, where they had become the unit they had, not by ease but through struggles and a good amount of headbutting. But they had come out on the other end, determined that whatever their lives became and whatever they did, they would do it together… Maybe this hadn't included their current careers, but they'd decided , as always, together, when the opportunity had presented itself, and over time it had deviated and evolved until it got them to where and who they were now.

They had flown in to the city, allowing themselves plenty of time to make sure they were absolutely secure to move ahead. And both on the night of the break-in and in the weeks before, each of them had done their job, that is, they had each used the skill set they had cornered into making their own. For two of them, most of this preparation could be done from the comfort of the suite they had booked. Meanwhile, the third one, codename Optic, had one task at hand for now and it was recon.

She had long worked out the best way to achieve what she wanted and get the information she needed, with a balance of loudness and inconspicuousness. It was all about getting in, getting out, and getting forgotten, and as far as she went it was almost like getting in, getting out, getting spun around and let go. No one had any need to question her methods; the results spoke for themselves. She had gotten everything she needed, as she would, but even then, always, she would make something of a last check run, in the days leading up. In this case it was the afternoon of their heist. She returned afterward, to the suite, finding her colleagues still preparing.

It was clear on all their faces, they felt nervous about this one, not because of anything about the plan or the situation, no, those were solid. But there were concerns for how what had happened on their lost job might end up affecting this one. This had to do with the second of their team, codename Sneak, who was currently exercising, and showing some signs of discomfort. Her tasks would center around her agility, and on infiltration. At times it also involved peacefully neutralizing anyone who got in the way.

Unforeseeable adjustments were always par for the course, and they usually managed to get around them without a problem, but that wasn't the case on this last job, when an unscheduled change in guards had forced her to quicken her exit from the gallery and take a leap that ended badly. Even weeks later, they could see the pain hadn't completely gone away, and the concern was that it might derail the job they now had. But then she had insisted that she would be alright, and if she believed it, then so did they. It did have something to do with the time sensitivity of the act, which they guessed, but again their trust in one another was the base for everything.

So when she returned and saw how their 'muscle' was still reaching to her side after one motion or another, she went toward the last of their trio, who had been made something of a leading figure in all this in an unspoken way. She did have the clarity of mind to act as leader, though this went hand in hand with her specialty, both in setting out their plans and, above all, cracking codes… and safes. All this put together had granted her the codename Breaker. She was poring over schematics, though that never stopped her from noticing what was going on around her.

"You know if either of us is going to be making sure she's ready for this, it's not going to be me."

"Right, because you don't go for that," the recon woman pointed, recalling a conversation of years ago.

"That's right," the other pointed back, never looking up from the papers. So Optic moved over to check in on the recovering Sneak. She watched her, quiet, until she stopped, grabbing her side again, and then she stepped up, covering her hands with her own.

"You swear to me again," she told Sneak looking into those blue eyes.

"I swear," she was looking right back into her brown eyes, taking in a deep breath, almost to soak up the strength Optic projected on to her. "You meant about me being fine, right?" she asked then, which made the other smile.

Their names were sacred, especially when they were in the middle of a job. In those times, their real names were never to be spoken, read, written, or put in any sort of vicinity to them or the other two. Names had a way of getting you caught and, in their case, having grown up together – to one degree or another – made it so that if one was found by name, then so would they all, eventually. So as far as they were concerned, for now, their codenames were all they had, along with fakes names when the situation required it, which they tried to keep to a minimum.

"It's four o'clock," Breaker came to find them shortly after. "We better get ready," she declared, and everyone went off to do just that, changing clothes, packing supplies, double checking, triple checking – in some cases quadruple checking – and making sure everything was ready for them to disappear into the night as soon as this was done. There was no point in sticking around afterwards, even though one, sometimes two, of them would be tempted to stick around and see 'the morning after circus.'

They drove to the spot where they had planned to leave their car waiting for them, and they made it to the gallery the rest of the way on foot. Sneak would be the first to break off from the pack, as she was making her entry from a different point, the better to aid the others' access. Communication was switched on once they couldn't see her anymore.

"Let's all remind ourselves, again, that we can all hear what everyone is saying," Breaker spoke as a test to see if the earpieces were working.

"It was just that one time," Sneak's voice came in loud and clear.

"That's what you always say," Breaker told her, though she was looking at Optic.

"We're almost there, how are you doing?" Optic addressed Sneak instead of answering.

"Be right there." They saw the light at the door flash from red to green, and they entered, no bells or whistles of any kind. As they stood, reunited, there was a brief moment where they looked to one another, and then they split up, each of them off to her position… The night was theirs…

THE END (TO BE CONTINUED NEXT CYCLE)

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><p><strong>AN: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.  
><strong>**In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are  
><strong>******always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!******


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